


Was sorta hoping that you'd stay

by claveldelaire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bartender Louis, Boys Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, Famous Harry, Harry's going to 505, Hipster Harry, Indie Music, Louis can't stop swearing, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, References to Arctic Monkeys, Strangers to Lovers, louis too, lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claveldelaire/pseuds/claveldelaire
Summary: AU.Where Harry is the frontman of some shitty hipster band -if you can call it a band, according to Louis- and Louis is the fan of electro pop with his hair dyed white who dismisses Harry every time he goes to the pub -where Louis is the bartender- to sing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avellana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avellana/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Estaba esperando que te quedaras](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656972) by [claveldelaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/claveldelaire/pseuds/claveldelaire)



> Hi! This is my first long work in English, please have mercy!
> 
> This is a gift for Ana at her 25th!

The bar has just closed, and there is still some people left dancing along _'why you only call me when you're high?_ ' on the dance floor. Louis is tired as hell, but he simply can’t go, he needs to wait until everyone is gone to clean the tables. Only God knows what happened when you try to take a glass of some warmed cocktail that belongs to an already drunk girl.

Louis goes out to have a cigarette in the front of the pub when he sees the _famous_ Harry Styles chatting with the fucking Nick Grimshaw, another indie knob head that Louis has maybe banged one time or ten in the darkness of the backyard of the pub.

Harry Styles is not technically famous, not anything like world famous, or even a national star. He is only famous in town because he is the frontman of some shitty hipster band and all the girls _and boys_ are obsessed with him.

Nick Fucking Grimshaw is the host of the most heard program on the local radio. Nobody world important either.

When he sees Louis, Nick makes fun of him, trying to say something out of place, and Harry walks towards him to apologize, but he's so drunk that he ends spilling almost half of his beer on Louis new denim jacket.

“Are you a fucking joke, Styles?” he shrieks.

And Harry is beaming because, “you know my name, then.”

“Of course I know your name, fucking idiot! You're the frontman of that 'hollow sinners' band,” Louis says, angrily, “if you can call it a band.”

Harry is slightly offended by now. “It's 'holly sinners', you moron.”

“That fucking thing is the same shit,” squeals Louis.

“I only came to apologize in Nick's name but I'm feeling a bit attacked right now,” states Harry.

“That bloody Grimshaw.”

“What's your name?” asks Harry, surprised by the endless list of insults that Louis is throwing.

“Why do you care? Are you going to stalk me on Twitter or something hipster like that?”

Harry opens his mouth, but anything comes. Instead is Nick who groans from the muddy floor where he is half sitting.

“He's Louis Tomlinson and he's pleased to meet you, he also loves a good hipster who fucks him against the bathroom door.”

If looks could kill, Nick would be dismembered by now.

“Fuck off, Nick.”

Harry is overwhelmed somehow. He takes one step to Louis.

“Do you really love that?” says, pointing Louis with one finger and spilling the rest of his beer over Louis' jacket and trousers.

“Get away from me, you big bloody clown!”

“Stop that! Watch your language!” states Harry in a deeper voice. “I don't approve your behaviour, have a good night,” he says and tries to help Nick to get up but ends sitting next to him instead.

“Bloody hipsters,” Louis says and goes back inside the pub. Maybe he loves someone who fucks him against the bathroom door, but it doesn’t mean that he love hipsters.

***

Next Friday, Louis is mixing some cocktails in the pub when he hears an obnoxious _and_ boring deep voice.

Fucking Harry Styles and his too recognisable accent.

“Oh! Here is Louis the bad boy,” he says maybe too loud.

“Louis the bad boy? Louis the church boy more like!” and does Niall not have anything to do miles away from where he is standing now smiling at Harry.

Harry smiles back to him. Fucking dimples.

Then Louis attacks, “what are you doing here? It's rock tribute night, not bloody-hipsters night.”

“I've already told you, I'm not a bloody hipster! And I don’t approve your language,” says Harry but he doesn't seem to be too offended.

“Anyway, I don't want to see you here,” answers Louis.

“Why not? I'm telling Liam you're scaring his clients,” he states.

And why on Earth does this hipster knows who his boss is.

“Fine,” he barks. “What do you want?”

"I think a Cuba Libre would do," says simply Harry, watching him.

Louis doesn't respond, he only turns back to grab a Coke bottle from the fridge.

"There you go," says putting some mint leaves in the glass in front of Harry. "Bloody hipster," he says lowering his voice.

"Sorry, what did you say?" asks Harry, but Louis knows he heard it perfectly.

"That you must be careful, it could be poisoned," he says pointing to the glass.

Harry frowns, but drinks of it anyway.

***

Two weekends pass until the next time Louis sees bloody Harry.

It is his night out and he's having pizza with some boys from Doncaster in another sort of pub.

Louis has had too many beers when he spots Harry at the bar talking to some blonde ass girl. He's wearing a tank top. It's bloody January for fuck’s sake.

Louis excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. He fixes his fringe after peeing and goes straight to the bar. He stands behind Harry and asks for a beer to the bartender. When he is going back to his table, he makes sure to spill some beer in Harry's neck when the bartender is no longer watching.

"What the f-?" hisses Harry and turns back.

"Watch your language, you hipster," laughs Louis.

Harry opens and closes his mouth plenty of times without actually saying a word.

Louis laughs until Harry grabs him by his wrist and takes him to the back door.

"What- What are you doing?" squeals Louis.

Harry doesn't answer and keeps dragging him by the wrist.

Louis is not fighting too much. Maybe he actually loves a hipster banging him against a wall. Only they aren't going to a darker place, actually Harry is leading him to the main road. When they reach it, Harry turns right and walks until he reaches a red and glass building door. There he lets Louis’ wrist go.

If Louis had some sense of danger, he would start running back to the pub. But he has none.

Plus, he is curious about what Harry is trying to do. He's rummaging in his trouser pockets. Looking for his keys, assumes Louis.

"Sorry," Harry looks at him and smiles.

Louis rolls his eyes.

Harry finds his key ring and starts to open the door.

"Can I run now?" asks Louis but he and Harry both know that he's not running anywhere.

It's Harry's turn to roll his eyes. He holds the door open and gestures to the inside of the building hall. There is no guard.

"Today, if you like..."

Louis decides he has left all his common sense back in the pub and enters the building.

His arm ghosts over Harrys and he notices both of them have left their jackets at the pub. Surely Stan could take care of his, and Harry's... Fuck Harry anyway.

"You're frozen," he says, and wants to hit himself for sounding so caring.

“I know the pub's owner; Ed will take care of my jacket.”

"Fuck you and your knowledge of all of the pub’s owners in town," says Louis.

"Language," calls out Harry before starts climbing the stairs.

"There is an elevator," groans Louis pointing at it.

"I don't like it, and I live only in the fifth floor.”

Louis complains, horrified.

"I'm not using the stairs," he says stubbornly.

"Fine, you could get your own way to the street because I'm not going down again," screams Harry from the floor above.

"Fuck you," says Louis again and presses the elevator button.

When Louis arrives to the fifth floor, Harry is waiting for him leaning on the 505 door frame.

Louis laughs out loud.

"How hipster of you living in the 505 for not being a bloody hipster at all," he says, making reference to the Arctic Monkeys’ song.

Harry doesn't even bother rolling his eyes this time.

"But how comes you know the 505 song? You know plenty of hipster things to hate hipsters at all."

Louis closes his mouth. It is a very clever comeback.

"What are we doing here after all?" he asks, trying to sound exasperated.

Harry simply pushes the door and makes space for Louis to enter.

"Welcome to Hipster land, if you like..."

Louis closes his mouth again. What's the point of Harry making jokes about himself? Harry’s jokes are even better than his own.

"It's a shitty apartment," is the only thing he comes up after looking around the living room where they're standing. Harry rises a finger. "But it smells good," Louis says.

Harry smiles.

"Do you think we need to do some make out first or can we go straight to fuck against the bathroom door?" asks Harry while taking off his boots.

Louis blushes.

"I... I don't know," is the only thing he manages to say. And he hates himself for being like this.

"I do know what to do," says Harry in his rough voice. "Do you want some wine?"

Louis nods because he doesn't think he could lose any more of his dignity tonight.

"Take off your shoes, make yourself comfortable," says Harry from the other side of the kitchen bar.

He returns with two glasses of white wine and joins Louis in the sofa. He hands a glass to Louis.

"I prefer red wine most," says Louis, trying to keep himself serious, but he’s already gulping it.

"You can give it back to me if you don't want it," says Harry being more serious than him.

"So this is a hipster habitat," says Louis after appreciating the surroundings.

"Stop that, you bloody hipster lover," teases Harry.

"Shut up."

"Nick told me you never shut up about me, you know, when you two were going out," says Harry in a lower voice.

"I wasn't dating Nick, for fuck's sake!"

"I didn't say you two were dating," continues Harry. "Nick also told me you were always drooling over how fit I am."

"Shut up, please."

"Make me," singsongs Harry and God, Louis might love him.

"You're a kid, Harry."

"But you already know that and you come here anyway."

"You dragged me, it is not like I have come for my own will," refutes Louis.

"Oh please, you entered the building _and_ the flat under your own consent! I only showed you the way and you know perfectly what we would be doing here!" Harry raises his voice.

"You had very bad manners to show me the way, and I still don't know why you bring me here," Louis says half laughing and trying to play dumb.

Harry shifts in the sofa, until he's watching directly at Louis and he leans forward a bit.

"No? You don't know why we are alone on my flat?"

Louis presses his lips together. Harry leans back.

"Please, come here," Harry pleads, pointing his own chest. Louis leans closer, and when he is within Harry's reach, Harry places both hands on his neck and closes the distance with a kiss.

Harry's hands are everywhere and Louis' hands should be doing the same, but he is so fucking shy when it comes to boys taking control of the situation. He kisses Harry back after a few seconds.

When Louis starts to shift his lower body in Harry's direction, Harry breaks the kiss and asks him if he's fine, Harry’s right hand under his shirt and left hand still in his neck.

"Yes, yes, yes," Louis says desperately and practically jumps over Harry.

Harry holds him in place just the time necessary to opening his legs and letting Louis accommodate in there.

Harry breaks the kiss again a few minutes later and directs Louis to kiss his neck. Louis is gaining confidence again. Harry's not that awful person he thought.

"Nick..." says Harry, and Louis snaps his head back. Harry's definitely an awful person.

"What the fuck did you say?" spits Louis, trying to get away from Harry.

Harry laughs and grabs his wrist.

"Nick told me you have a poster of my face pinned above your bed," says almost breathlessly.

Louis attacks his neck again.

"Lies."

"Ok, I maybe made up this one," says Harry, tangling his fingers in Louis’ hair.

"But I _do_ have a photo of you in my nightstand drawer, under the bottles of lube Grimshaw never got to use," chants Louis.

"Fuck," breathes Harry.

"Language," mocks Louis.

***

The thing is they don’t end the night having sex. They make out some more, and then drink some more wine, and Louis finally falls asleep on Harry’s chest.

***

The morning after is bloody awful according to Louis, because he _needs_ to be back the anti-hipster person he usually is.

Harry offers him some coffee but he refuses and makes up some lame excuse before practically running outside the flat and the building.

He calls in sick to his job that afternoon and doesn’t show there until next Friday. Harry’s not there. It’s not like he wants to see him after the fool he made of himself, anyway.

Harry’s not there that weekend, nor the next, nor the following six weekends. He’s not in the pub Louis spilled his beer on him either, the two times Louis goes there with friends.

Finally, sometime in mid-March, Liam tells Louis that Harry and his band are presenting their first own song in the pub the first Friday of April. Louis pouts and tries to make arranges with Niall in order not work that night, but Liam tells them it will be a busy night and he will need both of them there.

***

March ends with any notices from Harry, apart from the fact that he’s presenting his first single in Louis’ pub.

First Friday of April comes, and Louis makes an effort for being late to work. He knows it won’t make Liam happy, but he won’t fire him either.

When he finally stands behind the bar and starts mixing drinks, Harry is already on the little stage in the corner of the tiny pub.

He has trimmed his hair. There is no man bun now, only his hair growing in every direction, being held by a pair of glasses.

The band plays all their covers first. Louis pretends not to pay any attention. He’s a dick and he knows it. Then the band makes a pause and Liam comes running asking for Coronas for the boys.

Louis looks for Harry with the side of his eye and spots him talking animatedly with Nick.

Louis has forgotten Grimshaw existence. They’re laughing. Maybe they’re making fun of him, they’re friends after all. Louis rolls his eyes and tries to concentrate on his work.

After fifteen minutes or so, is not like Louis is controlling the time, the band is back on the stage.

“Finally, we want to let you hear our own single first of all people,” says the drummer and Louis has not an idea who he is.

Before he starts playing the drums, Louis sees that Harry makes a gesture for him to wait.

“We thought it would be the best idea playing our first own song here because you are our favourite crowd so far, you have seen us born and grow,” says Harry with his boring voice, and Louis hates himself for being like that. Harry has been nothing with him but nice.

“Plus, I know that in this crow there is the person who inspired me to write it,” Harry finishes his little speech and the people go mad.

Louis is completely watching the stage now, leaving alone the glass he was preparing, gaining a frown from the guy who asked for it. He is clenching his fists around the towel he usually uses for cleaning spilled drinks.

He wants to cry.

He should have known better. He means nothing for Harry. It’s obvious how the song is inspired by Nick Fucking Grimshaw. He wants to break some tables because he feels so stupid. He was so blind the last weeks thinking maybe Harry really wants something else with him.

And then the drummer starts to play. And then the guitars.

And then Fucking Harry with his deep ass voice.

 _Have you got colour in your cheeks?_  
Do you ever get that feelin' that you can't shift the tide  
That sticks around like summat's in your teeth  
Ah, there's some aces up your sleeve  
Have you no idea that you're in deep  
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week  
How many secrets can you keep?  
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow  
When I play it on repeat  
Until I fall asleep  
Spilling drinks on my settee

And Harry’s not looking at Nick even though he’s in the first row. Harry is singing with his eyes closed. Fucking Nick is on his phone. And Louis hates him ever more. What could be more important than having Harry Styles singing to you a song he has written for _you_?

 _(Do I wanna know?)_  
If this feeling flows both ways  
(Sad to see you go)  
Was sorta hoping that you'd stay  
(Baby we both know)  
That the nights were mainly made for saying  
Things that you can't say tomorrow day  
Crawlin' back to you  
Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?  
'Cause I always do

And now Louis wants to cry even more because Harry has opened his eyes and is looking straight at him.

 _Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new_  
Now I've thought it through  
Crawling back to you

Harry has not stopped looking at him while he sways his hips with the song beat. Louis thinks his knuckles must look white know.

Harry shifts his entire body in Louis direction.

 _So have you got the guts?_  
Been wondering if your heart's still open and  
If so I wanna know what time it shuts  
Simmer down and pucker up  
I'm sorry to interrupt it's just I'm constantly  
On the cusp of trying to kiss you  
I don't know if you feel the same as I do  
But we could be together, if you wanted to

Louis can’t keep listening. He drops the towel under the bar and goes to the kitchen. He needs a moment. The lady washing the glasses looks at him with a frown. He needs some fresh air. He keeps walking until the back door. Once he’s out, he bends and places his hands in his knees.

He lights a cigarette. He can hear the crowd cheering inside. He is going to have an earful when Liam finds him, but he doesn’t manage to care.

He’s smoking his third cigarette when the door opens and Liam is poking his head outside. Contrary to all of Louis thoughts, he smiles and opens the door wider.

“Here you are, some fan of yours is looking for your ass,” says Liam and get back inside letting Harry come out.

Louis feels his blood pressure dropping.

Harry only stands up in front of him with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

And… What? If there is anybody that needs to apologize there, it is not Harry.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry, you know, for disappearing and now appearing with a full song about you,” he says.

So the song is for him. Well, it’s not Harry hasn’t left it clear inside, but… Louis thinks he might be crying in a few seconds in Harry doesn’t stop, and he knows he won’t stop.

Louis drops his cigarette to the pavement and steps on it. He pops his neck before catch some air to speak.

“Harry, _I_ am sorry for running and ruining it, yeah? If there is someone who needs to apologise his ass, it’s me.”

Harry laughs, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

And now Louis feels guilty.

“Come here,” he says and lifts his left arm.

Harry practically jumps on him and holds on him for dear life. Louis surrounds his back with both arms.

Harry is now pushing away a bit and Louis doesn’t want to let go, but he respects Harry’s wish anyway.

He doesn’t have time to worry because Harry is grabbing him by the chin and kissing him.

It feels good. It feels fine. And Louis needs to stand on his tippy toes in order to put his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Bloody giraffe,” he murmurs and Harry pinches his ass once.

“I’m glad you still hate me,” says Harry after breaking the kiss.

Louis looks him in the eye. “You have no idea how much I hate you,” says and then they’re kissing again.

***

If they end the night having some sex against the service bathroom door of the pub, Liam doesn’t need to know it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read it until the end: thank you! Feel free to make some suggestions if you think an idea is not well written.
> 
> If you like it, you can left kudos or/and comments right here.
> 
> Aaand if you like and you want to talk with me, you can follow me on Tumblr at [claveldelaire](http://claveldelaire.tumblr.com)


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